


Mistakes Were Made Twice

by exAm



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Death Threats, Flamethrower, M/M, Mello is explosive, PWP, Rough Oral Sex, Ryuk is involved to limited extent, Ryuk is irreverent, Weapons Kink, Wet & Messy, dub-con, light is kira
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-03-25 20:16:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13842216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exAm/pseuds/exAm
Summary: Mello gets a lead on who Kira may be from his underworld connections.He then barges in on Light in his home, intending to kill him during the confrontation and settle the score.





	1. Every Word from Your Mouth is a Knife in My Ear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZombieJesus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieJesus/gifts).



You’d think a storied mass murderer would be a little more used to staring death down the barrel by now.

  
It's only when someone's got a comically oversized weapon pointed dead in between his eyes that he can't help but lose a bit of his composure.  
  
  
Standing a couple inches shorter than him, a model-esque man clad in punk attire had barged into his home to yell disconnected abuse in his face like a schizophrenic in the Tokyo subway system.  
  
  
Light was cornered between the island and the stove inside his open plan kitchen, a small modern townhouse. Time slowed down for him in what could be the last moments of his life. 

 

The attacker was Caucasian; the accent was thick English. Light couldn't necessarily accurately place the lineage but the man looked Nordic. He was dressed loudly. Well-coifed, slicked down in dark purple and buttery-looking quilted black leather. A tight vest with black mink lining. Ostrich leather boots up to his calves. Fingerless gloves with studs. And one entirely out-of-place dark red rosary hanging off his neck in blatant sacrilege of faith.   
  
  
What a surreal vision he made. Light hadn't immediately recognized the make of the weapon in his face either. Such things tended to happen when he couldn't think straight.  
  
  
As the scandalously pretty, clearly mentally unstable intruder was breathing heavily whilst radiating in palpable anger at him, it became apparent the other man intended to discharge the mystery weapon straight up Light's nostrils. The stranger seemed to be relishing this moment, drinking it in, taking much longer than he needed to make his next move.

 

He intended to say something, maybe. Given the circumstances, Light didn't imagine it would be wise to speak up first.

 

So they stayed there, at a manic pause, while the younger man caught his breath to speak his piece. And Light stayed alive for the time being. He really needed to figure out what to do, pronto.

 

“Oi! You bloodthirsty, cowardly twat! _I know what you really are. So_ before you die, screaming for mercy I will never grant you, I need you to know _this was all for him_.” Those fearsome eyes, nearly neon blue eyes, burned brighter than flame. They held unshed tears at the corners from passion. "The man you murdered. The one whose legacy you feed upon, you ungrateful jackal. This is for the real L. You bloody leech; you disgust me." His posh British accent was scratchy from rage. He spat on Light's brown oxford shoes. Light kept his features schooled.  
  
  
Quite the manifesto to come in on, after all that colorful cursing at him without context. Was this truly someone who had known L before he died? L had been from London. His accent made his soft Japanese monotone all the more disquieting.  
  
  
_It had to be,_ the anger alone was too real as if it formed the backbone of a long-held self image. This wasn't someone who'd simply known L Lawlet, benefitted from him in some passing way; this was someone who'd once loved him.

 

A lover? No. Surely not. The man would have been far too young for L five years ago now. Though L had demonstrated highly questionable morals; Light knew all about the man's sexual proclivities - an obsessive who couldn't separate his work from his life, he'd given up everything he'd achieved for his shot to be with somebody on his same intellectual level. The large majority of L's downfall had been wrapped up in his desire for Kira, even Light had to admit that his planning alone wouldn't have beat the man.  
  
  
Light sized the intruder up again. Carefully taking stock of everything presented before him, taking full account of what had been said.  
  
  
Heart pounding so hard he could feel the beat of it up in his throat. His shoulders were seized up with a cursed panic which threatened to spill out of him in the form of fearful breathing - skittering up and down his spine _hecoulddiehemightdie_ but, even still, Light wouldn't show any hint of fear. 

If only Light could have ordered the Death God to take the weapon away.

That definitely wouldn't be happening though. He could hear Ryuk through gales of laughter behind him and when he glanced to him, the shinigami observed wryly, "Maybe ya shoulda upped home security, Light-o, 'cuz you've really done it to yourself this time. This is exactly the kinda trouble I can't get ya out of."  
  
  
Ryuk, studiously useless right now, would be making no apology for finding this all hysterically funny should Light survive the night.

 

Light didn't understand his motives but he wouldn't have ever hung on to any hopes the shinigami would do something to intervene on his behalf in the face of death. That damn destructive laughter. It really pissed Light off that his supernatural 'friend' seemed gung-ho on munching popcorn watching his doom. That was the Death God in a nutshell - everything about human life was one big joke to him. Especially the part of it the creature had mastery over.

  
There was no telling with his particular Shinigami, though. The big lug might very well break down in the heat of the moment and save him. Sometimes Ryuk had helped him a great deal. Mostly, true to his own claims of complete neutrality though, he remained uninvolved. Only occasionally was he either irresponsible enough that he forgot his rule-bound duty to be neutral or there was something else at play, a partiality to Light, that he was willing to take risks.   
  
  
What was on the table then? Unlike the help of Ryuk, something Light wouldn't die wishing for. He could make no credible threats, options for negotiations seemed as if they _might be strained_.  
  
  
He would have to  _intuit_  a weakness.  
  
  
From this proximity, he could hear the stilled blonde’s breath was catching. His eyes were wandering up and down Light's frozen figure, hungrily as they took him in, pausing noticeably on Light's abdomen peaking down to the way the V of his hipbones held up his fine pants.  
  
  
Well, that was interesting, that hitched breathing might not entirely be from exertion.  
  
  
An opening had presented itself.

 

The next action Light chose was perverse, more than a bit tacky, but better than to continue this staring contest with someone whose chaotic presence felt damn near infectious.

 

Light leaned his head forward into the thick muzzle of the weapon bringing it near to his mouth, pulling the foreigner’s gaze down with the jerk of his unexpected movement. Then without breaking eye contact with ice-blue eyes, where the force of pure hatred crashed in waves, Light flicked his pink tongue suggestively across the barrel.

 

His attacker sucked a loud intake of breath and stumbled a little, “Jesus Christ. Are you daft!?”

 

“The escort I hired, right? You're  _early_.” Light’s hands started to make their way towards the intruder’s, “No one informed me of the roleplaying side of this service, I think I’ll quite enjoy it.”

 

Mello’s expressive eyes widened, they followed Light’s motions as he licked the rim of the barrel making an unbroken circle before he kissed it adieu.

 

Mello hissed under his breath, “Look you tosser, that's  _a goddamned flamethrower_ ; I'll melt your face into an unrecognizable heap. I’m not an esco-“  
  
  
Light’s hand was had now settled upon his, threading through his long fingers. His attention flicked to those pretty hands; he visibly admired his black nail polish.  
  
  
Light watched the waves of hatred shifting to an equally chaotic expression of utmost confusion, “Whatever this is, it’s _hot_ seeing someone delicate in appearance hold something deadly with expertise.”

 

Light's hands continued to move in a way that caused the other man's pulse to jump. He kept leaning forward while backing him predatorily into the island, letting his undeniable sex appeal wash over the intruder.

 

Then, so that this man had no real time to come to his senses and blow Light's brains out, he dug his fingernails into the other man’s wrist at the pressure points with the most give so that that the flamethrower released into Light's other opened hand.  
  
  
A second later he had turned the device upon his alluring attacker. He'd pushed it taut against his willowy chest.  
  
  
The blonde man swiveled and backed away with his hands in the air but Light just moved with him in step as if he were leading a dance.

 

“You are stark-raving!”

 

“Maybe I am. If this is truly a flamethrower maybe you should sit yourself down over there," He pointed at a couch in the attached living room with his other hand, while he kept the weapon firmly against the other man's chest, "I received training even in military and contraband grade weapons. This kind included. I’ll pull the safety, here," He showed the man his thumb poised over it, "and the trigger, here, if you don’t follow my suggestions.”

 

Ryuk was clapping and hollering his support behind him and he shot him a withering look to convey, ‘fat lot of help you were’.  
  
  
The young man paced backwards into the main room and sat down on a couch.  
  
  
The Death God sheepishly shrugged and threw up his hands at Light as if such things must be pardoned. That looked ridiculous coming from a monster who could have made mincemeat of nearly anyone.  
  
  
The Shinigami liked be passive observer to everything interesting Light ever did. Well, too bad for him.  
  
  
No such show for him today. Ryuk hadn't _earned seeing_  all that he was about to do to this man.

 

Light shooed his pet God away by waving his newly acquired weapon at the door. The action caused the vigilante to hop nervously up from the patent leather chair every time it swung back in his direction.

 

“So that’s your type? It's the accent, isn't it?” Ryuk muttered as he had another late-in-coming lightbulb moment, his laughter died along with his amusement as he accepted this cue and left the room.

 

Sometimes Light suspected him of being a bit jealous. According to Misa Amane, all the Death Gods were capable of love. Two had died for her sake. Unlikely it were that serious with Ryuk, though. His shinigami only seemed capable of seeking amusements.

 

“Are we done waving that around? That isn't a stable weapon you know, you'll off us both!” The blonde yelled at him.

 

“Can't say I am. Tell me, can you do what you were hired for?”

 

Had his attacker really believed someone who looked like him would ever hire anyone to fuck him? Or had the ploy made him pause for some other reason,  “Don't be a disingenuous cunt." He hissed, rocking back and forth with nervous fear, “I’m not going to pretend like I believe for half a fucking second you need to order male escorts, _Kira_.”

 

Some other reason for the pause then. Light smiled his winningest smile at him, “I’m the head of the Japanese NPA. I'm not sure I like this roleplay; you'll address me with the respect I am due. Promise that I can afford someone cheap looking like you. Now go on, undress.”

 

"Mother of God. I'd always imagined the only thing you’d demand of me was my name.” Mello looked at him in disbelief. 

 

“Why? The only important name between us is _mine_ since you are going to be screaming it.”

 

"Cut your shit. I’m not some slag or whatever so stop-“

 

“If you aren’t a hooker; consider yourself very lucky I’ve taken you for one.“ Light paced forward to where the blond was sitting down, “I can put you in jail a very long time, connections I've got. Things will be much nicer for you this way.” He sounded condescendingly comforting.

 

Mello did not calm down, not with the weapon in his face, “You won't be able to put me away. My codename is Mello. I’m L’s chosen successor and-.”

 

Light rolled his amber eyes. Internally though, his mind was racing because L had never mentioned having successors.

 

Feeling reckless, he took the safety off and let the flamethrower go off close enough to ‘Mello’s head that he could feel the dangerous heat from the white-hot flames, earning himself a small yelp, “Huh. It really is a flamethrower.”

 

Mello groaned with a mixture of fear and annoyance. As though being nearly mowed down with a jet stream of fire was more a nuisance for him than a threat.

 

He blinked rapidly, then having reached some internal conclusion, he started to undo his asymmetrical leather vest with its fur lining, “Are you trying to kill me or set up an implausible situation to fuck me? Make up your mind.”

 

Light wasn't sure that he could tolerate how baselessly proud this gorgeous foreigner was. But liking someone as a person and fucking their brains out... weren't ever things that needed to go hand-in-hand.

 

Light was grateful to his photographic memory that he’d recalled during their struggle that this type of contraband weapon had an eight to ten foot range. Otherwise right now his living room would have been on fire, he would have wanted to fire it much closer to the younger man's head, “‘Mello’. I am sure you know the NPA works with ‘L’ who is alive and well. I would have certainly heard from him by now if he had a successor.”

 

“Bastard. The real ‘L’ died! You know because you killed him yourself!”  
  
  
Light set off the flamethrower again a little closer to the blonde’s head and made him grimace angrily.

 

“Are you new or something, because you are a terrible escort. You have no feel for your clients... Bringing this overpowered nonsense into my nice home… saying such untrue, nonsensical things...” He spun it even more.

 

‘Mello’ quieted not wanting his ear singed off next, he obediently took off his undershirt. His body was half covered in tattoos. Realistic delicate flowers, the detailed skulls of animal, a snake twined through an infinity symbol consuming its own tail, all stretching across a lean elegant body thinner than Light’s own… he looked young but somehow like he'd seen far too much for his age and he was by far the most exotic looking thing Light had ever seen up close.

 

He nakedly drank in his bared body, in a way that made ‘Mello’ swallow a lump that had been forming in his throat.

 

There’s that welling of desire he read earlier as plain as day flushing across his face in light pink. There’s no way he’s letting this pretty thing go without fucking him.

 

“Aren't you something. I’m going to need all night with you.”

 

Mello opened his mouth trying to seem outraged, but he said, “All night? I’ll run you ragged.” 

 

So they'd both like that. As Light had guessed the pretense of him being his hooker was actually beginning to turn him on.

 

Light observed Mello's nipples harden into darkened pink. He smiled wolfishly knowing it couldn't be because of the temperature. Not when his house had central heating and humidity control.

 

“There’s no way you could keep up with me for so much as an hour, old man.” Not a very sensible insult to be making while looking at him the way he was now.

 

“We’ll see about that.” Light massaged the flamethrower suggestively.  


“I'm here _for your head Kira_. I already know how you kill. I know all about the death note and the Shinigami. I know you aren’t really a God. I want to hear you admit out loud that you killed my mentor and then, _then I want you to die for the pain you've caused me_.”

 

This one really _did_  know what had L known. Somehow that’s not all that shocking if he’s  L’s successor, “Most of that was gibberish in my book. So is that your price, my honesty? You're even cheaper than I though. My lies are much prettier, you know.”

 

"Kira? Take your talk of prices, of money and shove it up your ass. I’ll fuck you bloody for free. Watch you sob your release as your final pathetic breath.” Mello gave him an insane look, tilting his eyes upwards. Light would have laughed because he was so pretty that it looks like a tabby kitten trying to be the Iceman. It would ruin the building mood of tension and need growing between them. He reigned it in.

 

“And if my honesty isn’t as lurid and damning as you are hoping; if I really don’t know what you are talking about?”

 

They both know that can’t be the case, “Dicking me about is pointless when I know far more about you than you know about me.”

 

This insubordinate little shit couldn't know the half of it. Well Light would be entirely honest with him, real soon; right before he wrote his name out and finished him off. Light didn’t think he could tolerate his mighty attitude long.

 

Enthralling though, to know the detective had had someone this exciting in his life who could pass for family; He couldn’t possibly be related by blood to the original L, though. “Do you want a little taste of my honesty? All I’m thinking about in this moment is:" He leaned in close, "if you’re a better lay than he was.”

The blonde went slack-jawed. The fire inside him combusted with the gas Light had poured over it so that it could no longer be contained. He jumped up from the chair and ran towards Light growling with rage and screaming, “You did do it! You fucking killed him!” His sudden rage depleted his physical strategy. Light didn't hesitated to club the back of his head with the flamethrower. He caught him as he fainted dead away.

“God damn it... fuck, fuck Ryuk! Get back over here.” He called, seeing the young man was well and truly knocked out, “Take this away from here. Wherever you want. Weapons like this are primitive to me anymore.”

  
Ryuk did several haphazard looking cartwheels over to where Light was, having never gone much further than the next room, “The Death Note ain't exactly cool Light-o. This? This is pretty amazing. I’m gonna fool around with it, heh! Caramelize some apples.”

“Funny.” Light flashed him an annoyed look, “Just... Get. It. Out. Of. Here.”

“I’ll take it only ‘cuz I it's interesting. That’s all. See ya later, kiddo. Oh… and I don’t think you need to bother tying that one up or nuthin’.” He pointed to the bulge in Mello’s practically painted on leather pants and chuckles, “He’s got it pretty bad for you already. All that attention you were lavishin' 'im with. Must be nice to be an enemy considered worthy of your attention.”

There it was again. The strangely jealous language from the Death God. Trying to ignore it, Light examined Mello up close as Ryuk opened the window and soared away into the starless Tokyo night.

"Are you worthy of this effort?" Light asked his knocked out body, almost tenderly, “What all is it you know about Kira, hm?”

The lean man was much heavier than he looked, as if he were built from pure muscle. Light needed a long breather before he moved him again.

He speed-dialed Misa. He told her to stay with his family, that he’d need their place to himself tonight. She was used to his dalliances with others, a habit of his she'd accepted long ago. Moving on from it immediately she said cheerfully that it might be nice to put braids into Sayu’s hair tonight. She asked if she should update ‘the logs’ and he responded, “Tonight all I need you to do is read me one name from one picture and stay with my family. You’ll do that for me, darling?”

"Of course, my love!” She dripped her saccharine endearments, as always, “I am your eyes.”

Ten minutes after talking to his fake girlfriend, he laid 'Micheal Keehl' down on his bed.

The doomed man’s alias and real name were not searchable via even Interpol's database but it hardly mattered with his name. Ryuk had been right but not for the right reason. Light wouldn't need to tie him up at all after this because Mihael had been cursed with already understanding what Kira was capable of.  
  
  
He'd said he knew how Kira killed and when people knew the power of the death note, a name was all that was needed to strike true fear into their hearts. He puts ice on the back of his head and hoped the concussion didn't make him loopy.

 

It would be a shame if he couldn’t fully appreciate his predicament. Hours later, he heard Ryuk’s wings displacing the air before he saw him, “Is he dying?”

 

He asked the creature who was a natural born expert of death. Burnt caramel was visible on his cheek across the zigzagging black lines that extend from his broad lips.

 

“Nah not very likely.” Ryuk scoffed, “He’ll be out for half a day or so though, big bump like that. He’s alive for now, ha! You wantin' to kill him yourself? My recommendation? Savor it. The best kills are slow.”

 

Light watched the rise and fall of an intricately tattooed chest, this man who had found his domicile and knew his true name before he'd ever known his, “In time.” He flicked his finger across the bit of saucy apple on Ryuk’s cheek, and put it in his own mouth, casually, “Mm. Thanks for your help, old friend.”

The monster touched his cheek where Light had briefly touched it. Whether he were marveling at the action or if he's just upset to lose the last bit of sugary cooked apple was unclear.

He took up space beside Mihael. Ryuk went on another verbal tirade that he was an impartial observer to 'Kira'. That the flamethrower thing hadn't meant he was really helping him out.

 

Light was feeling more comfortable here beside a young man who had demonstrated he wants to murder him with every fiber of his being than he ever has beside Misa. He's sure Ryuk would wake him if the other man woke first.

* * *

Nearing the crack of dawn, Light took a deep dive into the dark web to look for information on Mihael Keehl or ‘Mello’. When this surprisingly turned back up with nothing, as if he'd scrubbed his own existence, Light started to research the man's distinctive set of tattoos, one by one.

Thise image search eventually lead him to loads of information on the aspect of the Mafia the boy was likely involved with. An arm of the Sicilian branch that specialized in highly paid hits. Light whistled to himself, what a lovely assassin.  
  
  
He isn't all that surprised. Killers always had killers on their trails. Especially ones like him that only targeted convicted or believably accused violent criminals.

* * *

When Mihael woke he sat up in a room. The barrenness of the minimalist space was immediately skeezing him out. It looked like a sample page from a modern architecture magazine.

 

Kira was gone, his fearsome weapon gone with him and he’s in the same clothes from before.

Kira must have put his wifebeater tank and jacket back on? There is nothing on any surface in the room except for a marble lamp with a spherical base. 

  
  
He grabbed the neck of it and stood up, fear gripping him and his head aching.

  
  
“If it isn’t my useless escort come to call,” Light was found in the kitchen immediately outside this bedroom with the newspaper laid out before him. He's sipping black coffee and having a small plate of cantaloupe and grapes, “Welcome back to the land of the living, Micheal Keehl. Put that lamp down, won't you? I have a colt 45 strapped to my thigh, and many say perfect aim. Not to mention a Shinigami on my side. Also, your name. If you didn't catch that.”

 

“Kira.” He growled with a sneer, and contained a visceral shiver, “Who did you learn that from?”

“Stay. You’ll find out. Won’t you join the God of the new world for coffee? It’s one of these Nespresso machines – my NPA team bought it for me for a work anniversary. I don’t have the free time for complicated brewing processes but you wouldn’t be able to tell that from the quality of its taste.”

 

Mello lobbed the lamp at his head and Light deftly dodged it, then something invisible caught it out of the air behind and made it... dance.

 

“Shi-Shinigami!” He yelled pointing to the floating object being manipulated by something invisible.  
  
  
“Right on that as well. Right on most of it really... to the point, I would stake good money that L forwarded you some data that detailed this. Any observations of your own? Want to surprise me by knowing something he didn't put in a spreadsheet for you?” Light narrowed his eyes at him and smirked. “If you are who you say you are. Hm?”

 

The smug bastard. Mello shouldn’t answer these questions. “I didn't have his information. I found you all on my own research. You took my rightful title without earning it. Anyhow, no on the coffee. I prefer what I was raised on to coffee. Earl Grey. With a stack of sugar cubes. Is that any more measure of proof for you?”

 

Mello had come here to ultimately verify his conclusion the director of the NPA was indeed Kira. Well. God damn right on the money as usual. He had his verification, he hadn't been able to complete his task (though not the extra part where he somehow ripped the man's goddamned head off) and now he should return to his unit. Instead, he stood uselessly and he felt fascinated as a cabinet opened and a tea bag floated out of a canister seemingly all on its own.

 

Light raised an eyebrow. “We have tea. I don’t own sugar cubes. For some reason, I have an aversion.” He was soon thumbing through the Japan Times. Dressed in a suit with a tight striped flattering button-down dress shirt, he acts unaffected and unfazed by his company. “Your supposed connection to my network is still unverified. Maybe you’re not anyone at all but for who I want for you to be…” He's eying something at the lower corner of the page and his voice deepens, "Do you know who that is?

 

Mello had a lot of good guesses. None of which were appropriate to speak of out loud. Mihael who would spend an hour scalping a lesser man with a dull teaspoon for trying to play with his mind like this; just shakily dug into his pocket for his last loosie and a lighter then made what was probably the dumbest decision he had ever made.  
  
  
He went to join Light at the kitchen counter.   
  
  
The most handsome man Mihael had ever seen in his life only nodded and gave the newspaper a small pleased smile.   
  
  
Mihael regarded the haunted room with a carefully neutral expression as the lamp floated down from the air and settled on the counter beside them. He took care to exhale his smoke away from the table.  
  
  
Kira knew his name. His real name. So maybe he’d finally lost it, about to have a late breakfast with a monster like Light Yagami - an unrepentant psychopath who had killed the only adult who had ever been good to him.  
  
  
Light leaned over gracefully and took the cigarette out of his hand, then took a long drag and blew the smoke into his face; as if daring him to flinch. As if daring him to act out again with some supernatural force he could obviously control was in the room with them both.  
  
  
Mihael breathed the smoke exhalation in fearlessly. Their eyes met with exhilarating challenge.  
  
  
It was as if he could hear the universe cackling at him as he blew the remaining bit of smoke back out and leaned forward to kiss the velvet mouth of a powerful young God.


	2. Moon in your Mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A modified Surgeon's General Warning on Miheal Keehl's cigarette box that Matt made - only advises him to remember he is number one.
> 
> Don't ever tell Mello he's not good at something.
> 
> Also an actual general warning to the public: 
> 
> Ryuk is involved in this almost as like.. furniture? Like a shinigami sex swing. It's hard to explain but be aware of that just in case his support puts you off reading.

Kissing Kira felt something like what skydiving without an instructor or prior experience might feel like. Mello was falling open armed into a valley full of warm wind, exhilarated, so high and not knowing whether he’d figure out how to safely break his fall before _he died_. Every second their tongues twined softly was filled with dangerous what-ifs. When the kiss had ended, Light Yagami deftly twirled the cigarette rapidly between three fingers then put it out on his fruit plate. He tossed the butt up to the invisible shinigami who caught it and then threw it away.  
  
  
Mihael sighed. There went his last hope at reaching a degree of chemical calm. He felt like a live wire, a combination of pure stress and boundless curiosity for the man who had beat L -fucking- Lawliet.  
  
  
Kira then settled at his side of the kitchen island. He finished his coffee in the luxury of complete silence while Mello drank a subtle black tea compliments of Light’s invisible Death God attendant. He waited for Kira to tell him something, anything else. He needed badly to know where it was that he and the world’s most powerful person stood right now.

 

“You're leaning forward. Are you that eager to work?” Light asked, a sly smile crossing his face, “You have all of 15 minutes. I have an appointment at 9 am.”  
  
  
Mello clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth while he considered if he should really cater to Kira. His skull still ached and that wasn’t the only thing giving him pause.

  
Though his long-time partner Matt wouldn’t blame him for staying alive in this coerced fashion; and it was not as if the cheating would be emotional… Mello was worried about where this all would end. _If it would end._  
  
  
This man was cold, calculating, demanding and sexy… not warm, not comforting, not funny, nothing like his Matt.  
  
  
Light tilted his head at him, “Do you imagine I have all the time in the world for you, Mihael?”  
  
  
He didn’t imagine that. He imagined himself dead in 40 seconds flat. Mello swallowed his pride. He finished one last long sip of the tea to see it whisked away as he did. Mello fixed Light with the look he gave to anyone he set upon - full of nameless hot desire. He was used to personifying sexuality in a way that electrified people. He’d learned how to make their arm hairs prick and their postures slacken just to see that he wanted them.  
  
  
Light sighed, he kept his regal cross-legged posture and looked for his part unimpressed. He waved with two elegant strokes of his hand as though clearing the air, then said, “I won’t pay for bedroom eyes.”  
  
  
He pulled the gun off his thigh and, pointing it at Miheal's forehead, Light beckoned, “Come over here and show me what you’re good at,” Heart beating faster than a jack rabbit to imagine being touched by those graceful hands, “Go on. I’m still waiting to find out.” Mihael moved like he was being magnetized towards the older man.  


“I’m good at everything.” Mello challenged, not even caring about the gun, sounding almost inappropriately upset as if Light had hit a real nerve.   
  
  
Ryuk cackled in the background unheard by Mello, “Really? Ha! He certainly isn’t good at avenging his dead.”  
  
  
Light reached out for Michael and brought him back in close by the back of the hips and rested the gun at the blondes' temple, “How inopportune. It seems my Death God intends to watch.”  
  
  
They shared another brief kiss, “Oh? Is he willing to pay my fees too?” Mello played along and began to do a slow striptease with his shirt.  
  
  
“Ryuk _,_ you’re going to stand there? He’s being slow.”  
  
  
Mello yelped as an invisible force pulled him from Light and undressed him all at once like being disrobed by the wind. Ryuk whistled appreciatively as he got him down to his boxers.. Mihael stepped out of his pants as they were whipped off of him and looked over to see them being folded in mid-air then floating over to a chair with his top.  
  
  
“…that’s all I can do for your fun this mornin’ Light-o.”  
  
  
“No,” Light’s eyes danced with hidden intent, he put his gun back into the holster on his thigh, “Stay. Get the rest of it too.”  
  
  
Ryuk shuffled his feet nervously, “Heh. I don’t need t’watch _all that badly_.” They both knew Light understood the rules of engagement for shinigami.  
  
  
“Ryuk.” Light stressed, “ _Think_.”  
  
  
Light was right, of course. There were no rules against nonsexual human contact but this all felt extremely death-defying to Ryuk.  
  
  
Mihael felt as though he would jump out of his skin as his boxers fell away from him in ribbons when something like invisible knifes kissed his skin. They sliced though the fabric barely above the pressure to cut into his body. Holy shit, this man truly controlled _a death god_. He was toying with a creature who had power over mortality.  
  
  
Light enjoyed his awed expression. He pulled him in close and whispered seductively in Italian, “Your eyes say it all. My things obey me very well.”  
  
  
Something in his tone gave Mihael shivers.  
  
  
Though the God could speak any human language, Ryuk hadn’t caught these words quietly shared in a language he hadn’t been expecting to hear today. And what Light said after in Japanese was far too entertaining for him to concentrate, “Try anything like yesterday again? I won't kill you cleanly. My shinigami will slowly lop your head off, pike it on the top of the Tokyo Tower with my true name carved into your forehead as a warning to your mafia connections.”  
  
  
Ryuk rolled his eyes. Executing that plan would turn him to rust, it was a forbidden action to kill a human without the note, but Light had used Ryuk a few times now as a ploy to make himself seem more powerful to the other man. He floated back away a safe distance. Interested to watch these sexually-charged mind games, but rightfully fearful of the cosmic repercussions for any further participation.  
  
  
Light looked to him, understood then reached forward and grabbed Mihael’s hard cock at first sight - softly then tightening his grip around it until the force was slightly painful so that it stopped its interested twitching, “Why are you showing me this? Do you expect _me_ to do something with this?”  
  
  
“No,” Miheal’s voice strained as his will buckled, knowing full well the kind of power the man had over him now that he knew his name, “What should I do?”  
  
  
Light smoothly pushed him down by one of his shoulders. The blond dropped to his knees and unzipped free the man’s perfectly formed cock.  
  
  
Light was still otherwise fully dressed in his grey fine-knit Merino wool suit. Mello felt giddy and confident that this is where the man wanted to start. Miheal would _floor_ him.  
  
  
“You’re wearing far too many clothes,” He said, knowing he was about to slobber all over this mouth-watering thing, “for this.”  
  
  
Light didn’t give him the permission for anything else though so first kissed the holstered weapon to see if he could make the man jump, seeing he was unruffled, he then licked the cock head before him in a few neat swirls before opening his mouth pretty wide to take Light in down to the base of his member until his nose was pressed into the man’s pubic mound earning one long, pleased sigh.  
  
  
Light showed restraint. He didn’t touch him, he didn’t move his forward hips into Mello’s expert bobbing at all, it became apparent he was expected to do all the work, “Yes, take my full length.”  
  
  
Yesterday he would have tried to gnaw this off had Light Yagami gotten it anywhere near him. Mello started to actually suck and lick while moving back and forth to breath through his nose. His gag reflex was nearly impossible to trigger anymore but Light was actually big enough that he was worried he may slip up. The groan that he eventually pulled from the man sounded pained. Oh fuck yeah, he hoped it felt so good it hurt. He’d still kill him just as he’d come to do. He’d see the impeccably perfect Light Yagami unmade. Then he’d kill him.  
  
  
As if anyone would blame him. He didn’t want to die at the claws of some demon; but if he had to go out; at least he would get off first.  
  
  
As he’d warned, he fucked Light vigorously and ceaselessly with his mouth until saliva started to gather in the crotch of the man’s pants. When Light’s hands came down to thread into his hair he knew he was finally beginning to prove himself in this way.  
  
  
“He’s not takin’ the time to pull away to breathe, Light-o. He’s gonna knock ‘imself right back out.” Ryuk marveled.  
  
  
“When you’re not helping; you’re not talking.” Light snapped and felt himself edging towards orgasm.  
  
  
Ryuk warped behind him and held his shoulders steady, silently offering to hold him upright, “Relax then. You wanna act like a powerhouse when he’s making ya weak in the knees.” Mello continued to suck Light loudly, and even seemed to get more into it as Light leaned back into Ryuk’s support unseen, “Damn, look at ‘im go, the scoundrel, haha, he is _not_ boring!”  
  
  
Between Ryuk’s large rough hands laid firm across his back for support and his cock being masterfully and enthusiastically attended to - Light finally came with a primal yell which would have startled the hell out of Mihael had Ryuk not thought to muffle it as he saw it coming. Mello hadn’t been able to look up. He was busy swallowing his load, he leaned away and coughed some of the mucus in the back of his throat up after. Light pushed at Ryuk so his shinigami backed off again and he knelt down to pull Mello up for another heady kiss.  
  
  
They kissed so long with such careless intensity that Ryuk could hear their teeth clacking. There were stars in the pretty blonde's eyes. Oh, this stranger really was done for; did he realize what he had started? Ryuk was boisterously laughing amused at Light losing his mind to his passions, as he was wont to do. Though Ryuk hadn't seen him burn this brightly since the skinny man with the strange black eyes. Light would have to be okay for a little bit without his help because Ryuk had to go take care of himself. He hadn’t violated any rule yet right now he could’ve fallen to dust out of sheer frustration.  
  
  
Light didn’t sense Ryuk leave. He was needfully shoving Mihael against the cool floor tiles and kissing down the length of his swanlike neck to his chest to his belly button where fuzzy golden hairs caught the light. The man smelled smelled of vodka, chocolate and embedded cigarette smoke. Somehow, that didn’t repulse him. He _needed_ to put his mouth on his pretty straining cock for a few seconds to make the other man scream his release. He’d been so close to getting off just based on getting Light off.  
  
  
They both sat back breathing. Mihael rolled over splaying out on the floor with limbs loose, feeling like he'd been pretty successful at backing up his earlier claim, “It’s been way more than 15 minutes.” He said amused. From the huge smile on Light’s face, it looked like they were both enjoying the hell out of this, “You’re the NPA's director. Call your meeting off.”  
  
  
“You really do come from the school of L. I don’t shirk my responsibilities. I didn't get to where I am by being found by the right benefactor.“ Light sobered. He stood up and zipped himself. He looked around for a moment not seeing Ryuk, “You'll work with my schedule. Ryuk will watch after you. I’ll be back at 5 pm.”  
  
  
In reality, Ryuk would have to follow Light out. And Mello couldn't know that but he would still stay. Not because he had the threat of a silent spectral attendant promising death.  
  
  
He’d stay because he was secretly thrilled Light Yagami wasn’t done with him yet.


End file.
